Scraps
by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer
Summary: Little bits and pieces of ideas, plotbunnies, dialogue... things that are good, but don't fit anywhere else. Nothing complete. HPTR a.k.a HPLV
1. First Set

by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

**Disclaimer**: Would I be posting here if I owned the Harry Potter universe? **_NO!_**

**_Read_**: Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

**Beware! Thar be abandoned rabid plotbunnies ahead. Argh! **

1st Set:

"Harry! Get back here this instant!" Guilty, green eyes blink up into annoyed red. Voldemort taps his foot impatiently as the four year old slowly makes his way back to the tall man.

"What did I tell you about pranking Bellatrix?" The little dark-haired boy gulps before replying.

"Not to?" Voldemort raises an eyebrow.

"And what did you do?" Shuffling around a bit, Harry replies reluctantly.

"Pranked her." The older watches the child shift from guilty to incensed. "But she deserved it! She was being nasty while thinking about what is mine." Curious, Voldemort kneels to be at the same height as his charge.

"What do you mean by that?" Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Harry shudders.

"She was... touching herself and moaning your name." Voldemort sighs before pulling Harry into a hug.

"So I'm yours, am I?" Wrapping his arms around the taller man, he burries his face in the warm robes in front of him.

"Of course you are. You're not my father, brother, uncle, cousin, or anything like that, though you are a friend." Pulling back to meet the other's gaze, Harry looks into warm crimson eyes. "What are you to me? What am I to you?" These questions make the Dark Lord smile.

"Anything you want, but you are right. I am yours, just as you are mine." With that he places a kiss on Harry's forehead. "I'll make the Lestranges move back - "

"Can't Rabastan stay?" Hopeful green eyes shimmer and Voldemort has to resist kissing his little charge again.

"He may." Amused red eyes glitter as Harry beams up at him.

"And Nagini's my mom, right?" The Dark Lord chuckles.

"Of course - " Cutting in, Harry bounces a little bit in happiness.

"Yay! No more Bellatrix!" Standing and still holding his charge to him, Voldemort returns to his study with his little one squeeing happily.

_**#Next#**_

Harry slowly let his pants drop, watching closely as Tom's red eyes remained hungrily upon what his boxers hid. Stepping out of his pants left him rather unbalanced and that is when the Dark Lord decided to strike.

_**#Next#**_

"I'm not golden in any way, shape, or form," Harry sobbed, burying his face in his hands. "Nothing but tarnished silver, broken and black, unworthy of - " Warm, strong arms wrapped around him and soothing hisses forced him to focus on his ex-archnemesis.

_**#Next#**_

"Is it possible?"

"Anything is possible with magic."

_**#Next#**_

Tom slowly lapped the beads of sweat from Harry's neck as he thrust, causing Harry to whimper and thrust back wantonly. His mind was a whirl of pleasure and instincts as they rocked the bed so hard every time that it hit the wall it made an echoing bang. Luckily, there were no other creatures in the mansion, or so they thought.

_**#Next#**_

"Tom? I didn't know you had a pet snake." The python rose up to stare eye-to-eyes with Harry.

"Oh, Nagi? Yeah, she's been with me for ten or twelve years and is my only family." Harry turned to watch his fellow rookie dig through the closet.

"You're an orphan, too." It wasn't a question.

"Yes- Ah! Found them!" Tom pulls out a small, black T-shirt and dark blue jeans, holding them up for Harry to see.

"Are you sure I should wear that? I mean-" Harry watches nervously as Tom grins widely with a strange glint in his eye.

"It's perfect; you'll look gorgeous in these. Try them on!" He insists, pressing them on Harry, and when Harry doesn't move for a few moments, he's so stunned, Tom starts stripping the shorter cop.

_**#Next#**_

"What are you doing out here so late?" Harry doesn't even twitch as Voldemort wraps his arms around him, pulling him back to lean against the firm chest of the Dark Lord.

"Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you had tried to kill me that night?" Voldemort sighs, nibbling on his mate's neck.

"I would have almost died and you would have been left with your muggle relatives." Harry tilted his head, giving the Dark Lord more access which he happily took, sucking noisily on Harry's neck.

"Those disgusting animals take care of me? I think I'd rather be in the care of Bellatrix again."

_**#Next#**_

"We're - we're soulmates! But - how - why -"

"Bullshit!"

"This can't be - "

"He's a snake bastard! He killed my parents, Cedric, Sirius!"

"I did not kill your dogfather; Bellatrix did."

"You organized it, so you have to take some of the blame!"

_**#Next#**_

Voldie-kitty clings to Harry. "You can't do this! They'll kill me! Harry! I won't try to kill you anymore; just don't hand me over to them!"


	2. Second Set

by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

**Disclaimer**: Would I be posting here if I owned the Harry Potter universe? **_NO!_**

**_Read_**: Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

**Beware! Thar be abandoned rabid plotbunnies ahead. Argh! **

2nd Set:

Voldemort - or should I say, Tom Riddle - can be rather persuasive, especially when he's got a hand in Harry's pants and he's leaning over him with that possessive/lustful look in his eye. What's Harry to do? Especially when this is all taking place in the dark corner of said pub (inn on the second story, pub on the first, right) they just met in.

_**#Next#**_

Dumbles doesn't know that Harry and me

Do it in my house every summer.

He assumes that Harry's at his relative's but he's not there

Still he's on his knees and Dumbles doesn't know!

Oh Dumbles doesn't know!

So Don't Tell Dumbles!

Dumbles doesn't know!

Dumbles doesn't know!

So Don't Tell Dumbles!

Harry says he's out shopping,

But he's under me and I'm not stopping...

Because Dumbles doesn't know!

Dumbles doesn't know! (X3)

So don't tell Dumbles!

Dumbles doesn't know!

Don't tell Dumbles!

I can't believe he's so trusting,

While I'm right behind you thrusting.

Harry's got him on the phone,

And he's trying not to moan.

It's a three-way call and he knows nothing!

Dumbles doesn't know!(X3)

So don't tell Dumbles!

Dumbles doesn't know!(X3)

We'll put on a show!

Everyone will go!

Dumbles doesn't know!(x3)

The parkin lot

Why not? It's so cool when you're on top!

His front lawn in the snow

Life is so hard because Dumbles doesn't know!

We did it on his birthday...

Dumbles doesn't know!(X4)

Dumbles doesn't know!

Dumbles won't know!

Dumbles doesn't know!

Dumbles's gotta know!

Gotta tell Dumbles!

Gotta tell him myself!

Dumbles doesn't know! (X10)

(Chant) Dumbles doesn't know! (x7)

(Chant) Dumbles's gotta go!

Boredom and bad influences... made me alter "Scotty Doesn't Know" by Lustra. XP I'm not sure about making a songfic from this, so just for now...

_**#Next#**_

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No!"

"Are we there yet?"

"NO!"

"Are we - "

"No, Harry, we are not there yet. I will tell you when we arrive." A few blessed moments of silence as an adult and his charge continue their trudge up a steep slope.

"Think they're still following us?" Harry asks his mentor, who is walking a good yard ahead of him. The cloaked figure makes a noncommittal sound as he continues.

"Most likely. We are rather suspicious." The dark-haired preteen snorts and stumbles over a protruding root.

"When are we going to get there?" The other sighs gustily, sparing the boy behind him a glance. He takes the gesture as was intended as him rolling his eyes at the question. "It's a good question!"

"I know, but we will get there when we get there and no sooner. Wizards are never late - "

" - they get there exactly when they mean to. I know, but we've been hiking through the wilderness for the past month!" Another sigh from the Harry's mentor.

"The Floo Channels are being watched, my magic is too weak to Apparate us both, and there isn't any other way to get home." Harry glares at his mentor's back.

"You've been torturing me for the past ten years! Why, then, have we never been here before?" He huffs, watching warily as his mentor halts.

"I've been babysitting you for the past ten years, you ungrateful little brat! We haven't been here because we haven't needed to be here." The cloaked man hisses, annoyed. Harry blinks in surprise.

"So we're that desperate?" He huffs again, pouting up at the cloaked figure, who has turned around to face him.

"Would you rather me be killed, imprisoned, or Kissed and you be dragged off to spend seven years under the old coot's thumb during the school year and locked away with three animalistic Muggles for the summer?" His mentor growls, face less than a foot from Harry's. He makes a disgusted face at the thought of what he would have to live with if they were caught.

"No - "

"Then you'll follow me and keep quiet!" The cloaked man turns back the way they were heading and sweeps off, leaving Harry to hurry after him.

_**#Shift#**_

"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves and this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves and this is how it goes - "

"Harry, if you don't shut up, I'm going to waste a decade's hard work and slit your throat." Harry giggles, then promptly runs into his mentor's back and stumbles back only to be caught by said tall man. "We're here." He looks around, interested, but doesn't see anything different than what they'd be trudging through for the past two weeks.

"What? But there's nothing - " His mentor interrupts him, still holding him against him.

"Of course, you can't see it, but we're still here." His mentor steps back, one hand still resting on Harry's shoulder as he leads him past the barrier than none but the proper owners could see, revealing the large and imposing manor. Harry's eyes go wide as he gasps, gaping at the huge house that just materialized from thin air.  
"This is... we're finally here?" Harry could tell his mentor was smirking.

"Yes, we've finally arrived. This place will shield us from everything, unwanted owls, the Ministry, Aurors, even the old coot... Here we'll be able to use as much Dark magic as we want. You can cast any spell and never be caught." Harry gazed up at his mentor happily. "Welcome to Slytherin Manor, Harry."

_**#Next#**_

"I'm never joining you, Voldemort!" Harry screams from his position.

"Oh really? I'm sure I can change your mind, especially since you're tied to a chair and completely at my mercy." Harry's eyes widen and he tries to back away as his arch-enemy approaches him, hips swaying tauntingly.

"Shit..."

_**#Shift#**_

"Oh, Merlin!"

"My name's Voldemort. Scream it."

"VOLDEMORT!"

_**#Shift#**_

"So that's how your daddy and I finally got together." Voldemort sighs happily, his disturbed child gripping his snake plushie tightly as she watches her father warily.

"Father, can I go now?"

"Why? I was about to tell you about the time - "

"Thanks, but no thanks. Daddy's going to be mad at you."

"Only if you tell."

"Just don't tell me anymore bedtime stories; that's daddy's job anyway."

"Fine..."

_**#Next#**_

Harry: So... why am I in a dress?

Hermione: #hemming up the skirt# Because this is the only way to get you close enough to Voldemort so you can kill him and end this war.

Harry: ... so why am **I** in a **DRESS**?

Hermione: #sigh# Because the Prophecy says **YOU** will be the one to defeat V-Voldemort and if you went as a guy, then you would be instantly recognized.

Harry: #sigh# Damn.

Hermione: #stands up# There, all ready. Good luck.

Harry: #grimaces and grabs the portkey#

_**#Next#**_

Harry wakes to Tom watching something out his window warily.

"When I tell you to run, run. Alright, Harry?"

"What? Tom?" Realization dawns, chilling Harry to the bone. "Tom?" He gasps fearfully, but Tom just flashes him a bright yet false smile.

"Run."


	3. Third Set

by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

**Disclaimer**: Would I be posting here if I owned the Harry Potter universe? **_NO!_**

**_Read_**: Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

Bunnies: - GG/SS that leads to HP/TR because of GG's stubbornness.

- HP loses his memory of everything (probably after or because of the Ministry Incident in the 5th book) and Marvolo (LV) takes him in, leading to loverly slashy lemoness, but Snape has been ordered to bring back the Boy-Who-Lived, so by potions SS forces Caelestis to relive important occurrences in his life to prod him in the right direction. Whether Harry remember or not is up to whoever writes it as is whether Harry returns to Voldemort's side after regaining all his memories.

- Apparently, Tom's been taking care of Harry when he's sick. Oh, the possibilities of corrupting Harry are endless!

- Voldemort didn't go to Albania after that fateful night; instead, he went to Hogwarts where Harry stumbles upon him. They become attached (rather Voldie attaches himself to Harry) and things happen (Quirrell is just a treasure-seeking moron). Dumbles doesn't find out and thus can't inform Harry of who Voldie is. XP People can't see Voldie unless he wants them to or he isn't paying attention.

**Beware! Thar be abandoned rabid plotbunnies ahead. Argh! **

**3rd Set:**

Godric wrapped his arms around Salazar, burying his face in the other man's robes.

"Please, if you never let me touch you ever again, let me now. If you don't ever wish for my presence in your life after this, then I will abide by your wish, but please... right now..." Slytherin sat there, trying not to give in to the desire to hold the man who had swore to always be by his side. Shaking aside all thoughts of what he thought was weakness, he found he couldn't move, couldn't shake off the man who had followed him to the ends of the earth and nearly got himself killed but managed to save them both.

"You're a fool," was all he managed to croak before Godric laughed, a short and bitter sound, but that didn't stop Salazar, "and a complete idiot. You could have gotten hurt - you could have been _killed_ and for what? For your foolish ideas that I am something I am not!" Flinching, Godric huddled down further practically on top of the other man. Silently swearing to himself that even if it took one thousand years, the Gryffindor line would be bound to the Slytherin lineage.

_**#Next#**_

Idly kicking his feet in the air, Caelestis heaved a sigh, prodding the book he had been instructed to read but had already finished. He knew all of the rituals by heart by now. Why Snape insisted he reread them, he had no idea. Maybe he'd ask Marvolo when he came back from the Death Eater meeting, but for now he felt like a nap.

He had barely closed his eyes when something forced them open and there was the smell of fear and blood in the air. Looking around, he noticed he was in a graveyard, tied to something cold and solid as stone. A familiar whimpering figure was starting a fire under the cauldron not 5 feet in front of him. Why did this feel so familiar? He had never been in this situation.

Wormtail, for who else could be the balding and sniveling rat of a man before him, finished the preparations before picking up the squirming bundle that Caelestis had not noticed and dropped the wriggling serpentine baby into the cauldron. Feeling sick, the dark-haired youth tried to speak, to ask what the hell the quivering animagus thought he was doing, but for some reason couldn't get the words past his tight throat.

Then Wormtail started the ritual, the very last ritual in the book his bat of a teacher kept insisting he read thoroughly, the ritual that gave a wandering spirit the most appropriate body to inhabit. He couldn't move, even as the sniveling rodent drew a bone of the spirit's father to add to the potion. Only when the rat sliced open Caelestis' forearm to catch several drops of blood did he finally break out of his trance. Marvolo would kill Wormtail for this as only the Dark Lord who was allowed to touch the teen, but still he could not even force his mouth open.

The disgusting site of Wormtail cutting off his own hand didn't affect Caelestis the way it would normal people. No, it was the fact that Wormtail had _had_ a hand to cut off in the first place. As long as Caelestis could remember (which was as long as he had been in the Dark Lord's care), the rat had always had one flesh hand and the other of smooth silver.

Why had he suddenly remembered this? Were they real memories or a trick? One could never trust sudden, unexpected dreams, though there was always the possibility that this was one of his missing memories. Hissed orders made him focus on what was happening.

For a moment he was relieved (though his body was still tensed) at the sound of hissed voice of a fellow Parselmouth and the sight of a familiar, white, thin figure of Marvolo, but then the tall man turned and Caelestis realized his mistake. This could _never_ be his Marvolo. This humanoid had the face of a snake and the hateful gaze of an enemy. There were few similarities that he could pick out, but the crimson eyes were not as they should; it was obvious that this paper-thin monstrosity hated him with a passion, but Caelestis couldn't seem to rouse the same ardent emotions.

Feeling numb as the red-eyed, serpentine humanoid approached and taunted him, Caelestis could barely realize that he was speaking without even intentionally doing so and when he did, he found that he couldn't for the life of him control his voice. It was as if someone were speaking for him and not things that he wished to say. Despite wanting to wake up since this was obviously a dream, Caelestis found that he could not and the situation worsened.

Death Eaters began to Apparate in and each one Caelestis recognized - Crabbe Sr., Goyle Sr., Macnair, Malfoy... the list went on. Surely this must be some sort of vision rather than memories! Caelestis could remember perfectly the good times they had had, everything from conversations and hanging out to group activities and lessons. Nothing like this could have possibly happened! How could he have felt so at ease with every one of them if they had at one time tried to kill him?!

The snaky one had finished chastising the Death Eaters for the moment, finally 'remembering' him. Mocking sympathy made his lip curl at the man he'd rather have kicked in the face than deal with. Where was his Marvolo? Caelestis didn't remember anything about another Dark Lord commanding the Death Eaters and he had read all the books on Dark Lords that Marvolo had (and that was quite a considerable number).

Who is Harry? He wasn't Harry. In fact, he didn't know a single person named Harry or Potter, much less someone with both names. None-the-less, the serpentine humanoid continued 'taunting' him and, though he had no reaction to any of the man's barbs, his voice (apparently) did.

He had just been cut free to be forced to participate in a 'duel' with the much taller man when everything went black before his eyes snapped open to find worried crimson gazing into his own emerald. Latching onto the man in front of him, Harry nearly sobbed in relief. This was his master, his caretaker, his lover, and the other was not even related! The serpentine humanoid was someone else and Marvolo was his beautiful, warm crimson-eyed lover with a plentiful crop of silky black hair and circular pupils.

Shakily allowing the man he trusted most to view his memory of the nightmare, Caelestis sighed deeply, relaxing into the hand petting his hair. Marvolo would take care of him. Sure enough, once the older man had viewed the nightmare, he slid into the bed next to Caelestis and began to assist the teen in putting the nightmare out of his mind. It was no good to dwell on dreams, especially if they were as drastic as that one had been.

_**#Next#**_

The window was open and he was practically naked, but still he felt too hot to be healthy. Everything seemed to be weighing him down - Sirius' death, the Death Eaters that had been captured in June were already free, Voldemort was constantly pissed off and thus he had a constant headache, and now he had a high fever. The Dursleys had so _kindly_ let him stay in bed until he could get up without fainting, but they hadn't given him any medicine, not even a single fever reducer pill. Even still, it was a pleasant surprise.

When would his phantom come? Trying to ignore the sweltering heat, Harry turned over, whimpering at the pounding in his head worsened because of his movement. He lay still until the wave of nausea passed before trying the rest of the way, but before he could twitch a cool hand was placed on his forehead, stopping him. At the nudge from his companion, he returned to laying on his back, sighing in content as cool hands stroked over his body, cooling him down to a comfortable level.

Cracking open bleary eyes, Harry gazed up at his companion who had always been there for him when he was sick at the Dursleys. He wasn't sure if it was just a hallucination or if there really was something taking care of him and he never was sure. Whenever he was sick, everything was blurry even with his glasses on and the only thing he saw of his companion was a shadow and soft, red eyes. Long, cool fingers closed his eyes for him and there was a whisper for him to get some rest which he doubted he could have resisted if he cared to try. Even as he slept, he could still feel those familiar hands caressing him, massaging sore muscles and keeping watch over him as he rested.

It made life worth living.

_**#Next#**_

Marching out of the Common Room, Harry took off into the dark castle, willing back tears. Those two were supposed to be his friends! Shaking his head, Harry knew he shouldn't have trusted them. It was just as Voldie said. Upon reaching the empty classroom Harry could sense Voldie was waiting in, he slipped in and was immediately set upon by the little ghost.

"They didn't believe you, did they? What did I tell you! Don't doubt me, whelp. I know what I'm talking about!" The insubstantial blob crossed his small arms across his chest, red eyes boring into Harry's green.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Never doubt the almighty Moldy-" His eyes narrowed.

"Don't you dare finish that, Potter!" Wincing at the hurtful use of his last name, Harry growled.

"Don't call me by my last name, Voldie!" The ghost puffed up slightly in anger.

"What did I tell you about that name, child!" Harry's cheeks flushed in rage.

"Don't call me child, you puff of smoke!" He puffed up even more, nearly screeching, though no one else could hear him.

"Well at least I'm not some orphan who's only famous because of a curse scar and has no real friends!" Taking a step back as if he had been struck, his face falling, he fished around desperately for another comeback.

"Well…" Harry's lip trembled. "Well…" Turning away, he felt tears slip down his cheeks through his tightly clenched eyes though he refused to let even the slightest whimper out. The softest of touches brushed down his left cheek, causing him to jerk his head up and his eyes open. He had looked directly into the translucent red eyes of his ghostly companion that held the slightest sliver of compassion.

"I may not be very touchy-feely, but I am here," Voldie offered calmly and Harry immediately leaned into the faint touch, nodding slightly. Heaving a great sigh, he thought about the situation. Those who he had chosen were not the right choice and the one he had refused now seemed to have been the better option, but at least he had Voldie who hadn't given him a choice.

_**#End of Set 3#**_

**_AN:_** If you don't check my profile, I suggest you do. Latest updates or how far I am and even what the characters are doing instead of working with me on my stories are there. I updated my deviantART page! O.o I mean, my muse hit me with an urge to draw and my obsession with Harry and Tom caused me to draw HP fanart. Most of it is Harry alone, sadly, but… meh. Sorry if you don't like my style of drawing. Nobody's making anyone look at it. XP

English is **_EVILE_** and we just got another huge project on top of the other stuff we were supposed to be doing.


	4. Fourth Set

_by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer_

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Harry Potter... #laughs maniacally#

_**Read**_ Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

Bunnies: - (Ignoring HBP) Dumbledore shows up with a little boy at the beginning of Harry's 6th year. The child immediately attaches himself to Harry, who accepts his new role as Tom's caretaker quickly, loving the feeling of having something of a family (they even look somewhat alike). When asked what his name is, he tells them it's "Tom Widdle" which the Trio translates as "Tom Little", but we know what he really meant, right? Little Tom has trouble saying his r's, but otherwise speaks quite clearly and picks up on new words with disturbing swiftness (example being when Hermione called him pretentious and not ten minutes later he called Draco a pretentious bastard; the second word was from Ron).

- Who read the story "Caught" on aff dot net? XD

- In the last set of scraps there was one with Harry having forgot about everything, yes? This scene has been bugging the hell out of me since. It's when Tom finds 'Caelestis'.

- Weird dream turned plotbunny. One of my many insane/mental hospital plotbunnies.

- What if the elixir Voldie uses to return his body erases his memory and bonds him to Harry? Here's the start of it. Antagonists would probably be Malfoys and/or Ginny and/or Weasleys and/or other Death Eaters.

- #DDRs to Dam Dariam# XP

- Since the Dursleys called Harry 'freak' or 'boy' all the time he didn't know his name, so when he ran away to a circus to 'be with others of his kind' as Dudley had said only days before, he was unable to tell them who he was. A couple saw how thin he was and took him in. The boy was renamed and started learning magic tricks from one of the performers until he realized he had real magic and started doing his own. He became semi-famous, but stayed with his adopted parents. When the letter came for him to go to Hogwarts, he decided he didn't want to go, so he spelled himself untraceable. Eventually the war and/or Voldemort intrude into his life and he has to take an active part in protecting those he cares about.

- This is what I get for listening to AMV Hell 4. #sweatdrop# 'Maybe I'm a Lion' by the Black Mages and Harry Potter kind of meshed to give me this idea that I can't seem to get out of my head. It's just a little snippet, but the only words from that song are it's title. Those little words and Harry (they had a baby, I swear!) combined to form (Captain Planet! ... or not) - er... whatever. Anyway, I keep thinking about Harry looking down first, right? Then he lifts his head, glaring (oh-so-sexily) and he says, "maybe I'm a lion." Listen to it on YouTube! You'll understand. Just search the name (Maybe I'm a Lion). It was originally from Final Fantasy VIII, but there are amvs with FFVII:AC, too. It's worth listening to the first 15 seconds if you aren't fond of game music. That's where the only lyrics are. #shrugs#

- Dark!Harry fic. Harry obtains an artifact that nearly completely inverts his personality, bringing out his darkness that is so great because of his previous light. The brighter the light, the deeper the darkness. He is drawn to Voldemort for obvious reasons (power draws power and darkness draws darkness).

**#Start#**

A piercing scream echoes from somewhere in the castle. Then, "YOU LITTLE SHIT! GET BACK HERE!" Giggling and the sound of running. Doors slam open and more running. McGonagall looks like she's about to murder someone as she hurries to the door. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watch with cautious amusement as the stern witch goes after the troublemakers, but just as she arrives at the door it bursts open and a small blur darts past her to the front of the room, leaving Draco Malfoy panting in the doorway.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Malfoy?" The green-clad teacher asks stiffly, watching the normally calm student glances around with murder in his eyes.

"Where is he? I'm going to strangle him, wrap my hands around his scrawny little neck and - "

"Mr. Malfoy! Explain yourself this instant!" Finally the Malfoy Heir seems to realize who is speaking to him and he turns red, ducking his head in embarrassment. There is some snickering from the class that is silenced immediately when their teacher gives them a stern look.

"Potter's brat pranked me, ma'am." His robes are in disarray and his hair is sticking up in odd places, but other than that he doesn't look any different.

"Oh? What kind of prank, Mr. Malfoy, could a child of six pull on such a knowledgeable Sixth Year such as yourself to upset you so much?" At this, the blond blushes even more and mumbles something. "What was that?" McGonagall leans forward slightly to hear better when Malfoy mumbles again. "Well, if that is all then we'd better go see your Head of House. Come along." Getting a good grip on his arm, she pulls him along to see the Potions Bat. Back in the room, a small child giggles and a Mr. Potter scoots back to look under his desk, straight into a pair of mischievous green eyes.

"Tom, what did you do this time?" the teen asks exasperatedly. Maybe he shouldn't have let the Tweasleys take care of Tom. They seem to have rubbed off way too much on the once sweet child.

"It was just a widdle spiduh," Tom explains innocently. It would be a perfect mask if not for the wicked grin stretching across it.

"Sure it was, you little monster," Harry teases, giving in immediately when the child raises his arms to be picked up. Nearby, Hermione rolls her eyes as Ron and several others burst out laughing.

"Hey, Ron," big grin, "it seems as if Malfoy shares your love of spiders," Harry announces loudly, making the red-head scowl at him.

"Not funny, Harry," Ron pouts amongst gales of laughter.

_#Next#_

Six year old Tom Riddle looks up innocently at Harry. "When I guow up, I wanna be a tentacle monstuh." Harry's eye twitches violently. _'I knew I shouldn't have let Gred and Feorge baby-sit him.'_

_#Next#_

_Drip... drip... drip..._

The streetlight above him flickered randomly, arousing the desire to make it stop. Choose one or the other - just quit being indecisive! His breath misted before his eyes.

_Drip... drip... drip..._

There was no reason to be sprawled under a faulty streetlight in the dead of the night, but he couldn't recall why he was or why it hurt so much to breathe, much less attempt to move. Not a single part of him didn't ache or sting and on top of that he was soaked to the bone. The only good thing was that at least it was warm, making him think that it must be summer.

_On... off... on on... off... on-off... on..._

He just wanted it to pop, then - in a tinkle of metal on glass - it would cease bugging him with its inconstancy. There was no fighting the inevitable; the bulb would pop and it would be dark. Eyes slipping closed, the dark-haired teen groped around for any information on his situation.

_Drip... drip... drip..._

Nothing. His memory was completely blank. It was as if he had never had a life before a few moments ago. Strangling a sob welling up in his throat, he clenched his eyes tight. Would he lay there on the lumpy garbage bags forever? A soft breeze brushed passed him, eliciting a shiver from his thin form and goose bumps rising on his skin.

_Off... on... off off off... on... off... on... off... on on on on... off..._

How vexing.

_Tap... tap... tap..._

Eh? That was new. Were those... footsteps? Materializing from the darkness in a way that seemed completely natural, a dark-haired man appears, staring moodily ahead of him as he determinedly makes his way down the alley.

_#Next#_

I once dreamed that I was locked away in an insane asylum and referred to myself in third person, that I was all alone in the world and heard voices that no one else could. Then I woke up and found that what I was dreaming is my reality.

I'm Harry Potter, 16, and I live in a mental hospital specifically for unstable people who can perform magic. Naturally, each inmate wears a collar that represses their magic and I am no exception. Actually, mine is stronger than all the others because of my vast magic potential. Not that it does me any good.

I was transferred from Hogwarts at the end of my second year because I heard a voice that no one else could. When they found out, they immediately assumed that I was insane, but I found that its actually because I can speak to snakes. Apparently there was a rather large snake, also known as a basilisk, traveling through the pipes in the walls of the school.

_#Next#_

They landed hard, but Harry had never been so happy to have a Portkey. Kicking hard, the other young man freed them of the unwanted grip, eliciting a sharp squeal as the balding man was forced to roll away and grip his bruising flesh. Unwilling to open his eyes because of the nausea still affecting him, Harry pressed closer to the teen holding him, his grip loosening on the TriWizard Cup and Cedric Diggory's body. There were screams from all around him, but he couldn't seem to think of why. Surely the Portkey brought them back to Hogwarts?

Cedric Diggory was dead. Maybe that's why they were screaming? A soft voice was cooing to him in the back of his mind, telling him not to worry, that he was safe in his arms.

Voldemort was back, too; not that they knew, but none-the-less. It didn't change the fact that -

NO! He couldn't think of it. The arms he was nestled in tightened around him, a growl rumbling in the other's chest when someone else's hands came too close. What was distressing him so?

He pried open his eyes, immediately noticing that he was in Tom Riddle's arms. Said teen was baring his teeth and growling at Albus Dumbledore. Sighing deeply, Harry let go of the TriWizard Cup, hearing it clang to the ground as his free hand gripped the front of Tom Riddle's robes.

_"Hey!"_ Confused red eyes turned to him. _"I'm still with you, so quit making waves. He may be able to keep you out of the Ministry's grasp."_ His lips pursed in thought before he slowly nodded, but refused to let go of the messy-haired teen in his arms. Turning to face the Headmaster, Harry gripped the cloth in his hands tighter.

"Professor, someone turned the Cup into a Portkey that took us to a graveyard off Hogwarts' grounds. Then he - " Tilting his head, Harry indicated the squirming, squealing man on the ground. " - killed Cedric and strapped me to a gravestone, mumbling about reviving his master. He performed a strange ritual where he took a bone from the grave I was standing on, blood from my arm, and his own hand. These ingredients and a baby went into a cauldron which exploded in a bright light, knocking us out. When I came to, he - " This time he indicated the teen holding him. " - had freed me. He has amnesia and... for some reason he's rather attached to me." One of Dumbledore's eyes twitched. No doubt he recognized exactly who Harry's savior was. "Pettigrew then attempted to kill me, but my savior prevented that by having me grab the Portkey and I knew that I needed to bring back Cedric, too. Just as I managed to get a hold of both, Pettigrew touched us, explaining why he managed to come with us."

Fudge butted in, still going on about hiding the body. The way he was acting made Harry think that he had done something like this before. /Hide the body./ Shaking away those disturbing thoughts, he finally let go of Cedric, allowing others to take the body away.

_"The bug-eyed one." _Harry tilted his head, looking up at Tom Riddle's face before following his gaze to Mad-Eye Moody.

_"What about him?"_ Growl starting up in his chest again, he glared at the professor.

_"He isn't who he appears to be."_ One normal eye meets two vibrant green and owner of said eye approaches carefully. _"Don't leave me."_

_"You're mine. There's no way anyone can separate us."_ Shuddering at the ringing truth of Tom's words, Harry grips him tighter, briefly closing his eyes to dispel the few tears suddenly threatening to escape before snapping open at the gruff voice of Mad-Eye.

"You two had better head to the Hospital Wing. Pomfrey'll no doubt want to fuss over you for doing something so dangerous." Slipping away from Dumbledore was simpler than they thought it would be. He just nodded away their safety, allowing the wannabe pirate lead them away to their dooms. Maybe Dumbledore thought he'd be safe with his savior? At least Pettigrew had gotten a hold of Tom's wand - for Tom, of course. It was safely in Tom's pocket. They were about halfway to the Hospital Wing when their escort stopped.

_"Ack! Hiss at him to be patient or something!"_ Nodding almost imperceptibly, Tom turned his attention back to the person he now recognize as the spy in Albus Dumbledore's nest.

"Be patient, you fool!" Moody jerked in surprise before resuming movement. Soon they enter the ward and the matron immediately set upon Harry, seeing as Tom didn't have a scratch on him. The wound from the acromantula stung like Hell, especially when disturbed even as Pomfrey healed it and gave Harry an antidote for the venom. It hurt so much that Harry gripped Tom's hand so tight he wondered if he would break anything in their hands. On the other hand, Tom remained stoic even as his hand started to turn purple. Breathing heavily, Pomfrey left Harry to be helped into pajamas by Tom as she shooed Moody out of the ward. He'd be back later tonight, no doubt.

Luckily, the mediwitch could see when something is beyond her control like the fact that Dark Lords do whatever the Hell they want, even if they don't remember that they're Dark Lords. If they want to sleep in the same bed as their (ex)arch nemesis, then there's nothing in heaven or hell that can stop them, even their (ex)arch nemesis doesn't want them to (not that that's likely, especially this case). So after helping Harry into his pajamas, Tom changed into his own borrowed pair and slid under stiff sheets, having to pull Harry half on top of him to fit comfortably, but that didn't bother either of them.

_#Next#_

Curling in on himself, he felt his stomach give another gurgle. There was no way that anything good was going to come out of this, but he couldn't tell anyone. He had performed the Fidelus Charm on himself; it was such a dangerous secret.

Another gurgle made him groan. He was so hungry.

A few weeks prior, he had been going all the facts about the Wizarding World, Dumbledore and the Light, Voldemort and the Dark, the Prophesy, the death of his parents and then Sirius - everything he knew really because things weren't adding up.

Gaping holes mocked him as he had sifted through his knowledge. Why were things missing? Why didn't someone tell him some of this, things he should know? Hermione knew more than he did. Well, that wasn't a surprise, but it made him feel immensely inferior. Between all the things that were expected of him (not to mention defeating the annual challenge), he had no extra time.

And then this realization on top of all the questions and Sirius' death. To have fallen in love with - no, he can't think about it.

_#Next#_

They were back - the people in the funny-looking robes. For a magician like him traveling with a circus to consider something funny-looking, it really must be bloody bizarre. On and off for several years, they had been popping into existence and searching for a someone named Harry Potter. He didn't know any Potters, though, but he did know a couple of Blooms.

For the most part he kept out of their way. They had, of course, seen him at some point or another, but never displayed any interest in him. That didn't stop him from watching their search, though. Every so often he'd see them wave a stick and sometimes there would be sparks. They could do magic - not that it was anything super special because he could do magic too. Did they have to have strange robes on and wave sticks to do magic? He didn't, so why should they?

Then one day the most attractive man came with one of the groups of bizarre people. Long, black hair with piercing, red eyes - the man was to die for and apparently others thought so too since they followed his orders like good, little worker ants. He had never spoken with any from the groups, but now he had to resist the urge to go talk to this guy. Would the man mind if he were asked out on a date? The stranger didn't seem at all interested in the circus, but maybe he was just doing business.

He was obviously the boss of the group that always wore black robes, even if this one blonde dude always wore particularly nice, black robes. The way the red-eyed man was ordering his group around gave him naughty ideas.

Shaking his head, he returned to watching Maggie practice her routine. It wouldn't be long before she was allowed to practice on the tight rope. Since Triton was off doing whatever, he would probably be asked to play the victim in Catherine's knife-throwing act tonight. How the uni-banged teen could be so stoic while his sister chunked knives at him, he had no idea.

"Brats! It's time to eat!" Catherine called, smiling ever-so sweetly, making Maggie laugh and skip towards the knife-thrower's RV. Rolling his eyes, he followed, only growling lightly when the woman who had become his older sister ruffled his messy hair as he passed her. "You need another haircut. It's getting to look worse than that boy Triton hangs around with. You know, the one in the green tanktop?"

"If I need a new haircut, then you need cooking lessons. Is soup the only thing you know how to make?" He teased, dodging the swipe at his head and slipping behind Maggie for cover. Smiling just as calmly as always, Triton laughed from his seat.

"He has a point, Cathy," the acrobat chuckled quietly as he sat before his bowl of soup. Scowling, Catherine put her hands on her hips, getting ready to lecture them. Unknowingly, they were being watched by a pair of crimson eyes. More specifically, that gaze rested on one and one alone - a boy with black, messy hair and brilliant green eyes.

_#Next#_

They were surrounding him, hedging him in and trying to intimidate him. Why did everyone believe him Slytherin? Just because the stupid, ratty, old hat said he had a sharp mind and a goal in life didn't mean he was some sort of occultist freak who worshipped some snaky, hypocritic bastard. Coming to a decision, he finally lifted his gaze to the blonde idiot who seemed to be the leader.

"Maybe I'm a lion," he whispered just loud enough for this 'bad faith' fool to hear before he attacked.

_#Next#_

The world tilted and spun. To keep from falling, he clung to the closest solid object, which just happened to be something incredibly sharp he realized when he felt it slice into his flesh. He glanced over, only seeing a growing pool of blood and his own hand. What was this? Everything was growing darker.

He woke slowly, blinking his eyes open calmly. The world really had tilted on its side. At least it felt that way. He no longer felt guilt or worry about Ginny defying her brothers to go with the Slytherin she loved. The fight with Ron and Hermione about leaving him completely out of the loop all summer _again _seemed no more important than a slight disagreement with strangers. Nothing meant anything to him anymore.

The slow awareness rankled him, but that was all unimportant when he realized that something very familiar was dancing pleasantly over his skin. What was this? He shifted and moaned at the sensation. Whatever it was, he loved it. Trying to put a name to it only came up with one possibility - power. This was power? Oh, Merlin, then he never wanted to be without it. How could he have possibly been so blissfully unaware of this heavenly force?

Hands skimming over his chest increased the feeling coiling in his gut, so he continued, homing in on the nerve-riddled nubs known as nipples easily and molesting them for more pleasure. The coil tightening with each rub and twist, while his other hand stroked over the bulge in his pajama pants. If this was how it would always be, he wouldn't be able to leave the bed. He would be stuck in a haze of pleasure day in and day out, unable to do anything but pleasure himself indefinitely.

The coil was wound too tight that it was beginning to almost hurt, but then it finally became too much, releasing all the tension and making pleasure wash over him in a sudden tsunami. Gasping for air he seemed to have deprived himself of as he had reached his peak, Harry groaned almost silently. Luckily, he had silence barriers up, but sometimes he forgot they were in affect. he had worried that they would one day fail and he would be embarrassed most shamefully. That was no longer a fear for him.

Licking his dry lips, he reached for his wand. The feeling of cooling cum in his pants would not be enjoyable. Deft fingers drew his wand into his hand, the strange feeling of warm metal on one of his fingers directing his attention to its presence. Only yesterday he had slipped it on, barely noticing the shift within himself. Nobody had noticed, but now he did. His anger had surfaced for nearly every little annoyance, getting him detentions with Snape for the next few weeks, but he was unable to find it in him to care, even now.

The only thing he thought of when his mind drifted to the ring was Dark. It was Dark. It had Dark powers and effects. He was wearing a Dark ring in Hogwarts and nobody, not even Dumbledore, had said a single thing about it! It was probably not the best thing for him to be wearing, but once again he couldn't find it in him to remove it or even tell a single person about it. He had a sneaking suspicion that the ring was why he could feel his own magic surrounding him and why would he ever want to give that awareness up? His sensitivity to other's magic was also more obvious as he could tell who was in the dorm room and who had spells cast on their bed. The very thrumming of Hogwarts' magic could be felt and it was immense but strangely comforting.

Rising from his bed and parting the curtains, he noticed that everyone else was still asleep, just as he knew. He would take a shower and then the play would begin. Idly grabbing a clean uniform, he entered the bathroom.

Once he was washed and dressed, Harry re-entered the dorm room to find only Neville and Dean awake. They were the first ones up normally, so he wasn't surprised, but they were. Just smiling lightly and returning their shocked greetings, Harry grabbed his book bag and headed downstairs, slipping past the few early birds and a very studious Hermione.

Upon exiting the Common Room, he ran straight into Ginny. She eyed him slightly warily, but he just shrugged his shoulders at her scrutiny.

"Good morning, Ginny. I suppose you're returning from visiting your boyfriend?" His voice was calm because he had no upset feelings over her choosing a Slytherin. Any feelings for her had dissipated and he had to refrain from completely ignoring her. She could be useful in the future if he were in need as long as he supported her decisions now.

"G-good morning, Harry. Weren't you upset with my 'fraternizing with the enemy' as Ron so kindly put it," the red-haired girl asked, her voice strange. She seemed to be having trouble deciding whether she should shout and sneer or be calm about his change in behavior.

"The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin above all. That would be hypocritical if I shunned you for dating a Slytherin," Harry easily explained, smiling just slightly. Now he wished that he had accepted that decision. The influence would have kept him for running into danger ninety percent of the time. Regret was something he only felt briefly, though, and just like that the feeling was gone. Ginny nodded, seemingly in a daze. Returning the nod, he continued on his way.

The Great Hall was mostly empty, so he ate alone in silence. When most of the student population started entering, he quickly finished and left, unwilling to linger. Wandering, Harry found himself thinking about the Chamber of Secrets, where he found the ring. Logic had stated he probably shouldn't have picked it up, much less wear it, but he ignored those thoughts. There was nothing wrong, though, just heightened awareness of magic.

Then, like a bolt of lightening hit him, he collapsed, gasping for breath. Oh, the _pleasure!_ It was all radiating from his scar. Somehow managing to turn himself on his back, he arched up, barely able to breathe. The feeling was as if the connection to Voldemort had been... inverted - the pleasure as intense as the pain had once been and, oh, how he didn't think anything could be better than this. As if sensing the challenge, he was pulled over the link into the embrace of the Dark Lord, who seemed just as surprised to have his arms full of a person as Harry was to be in someone's arms.

They stared at each other, barely daring to blink, and Harry was still shaking from pleasure, not realizing he hands were clenched in Voldemort's robes. The wizard was still as snaky as ever, but something about him wasn't as... intimidating or disturbing as before. Seeing his lack of fear, the Dark Lord's eye twitched and he reached for something in his robes.

"Don't you even _think _about using the Cruciatus curse on me lest you find yourself under its affects instead," Harry snarled, pulling Voldemort closer by the robes he held. He was surprised once again, raising an eyebrow at the Darkness he could sense from the boy who had once only shined with Light that was blinding in its intensity. Now he could feel the Darkness rolling off him in waves, along with the power that had always been his.

**-** Aaaaaaaaand that's all I'm writing for this unless I want to get stuck on it. With all the fics I already have up, I really can't take on another one.

**AN:** Ok, I thought I'd stick this out here and see what people said. I've had more people take up my Parseltongue!Harry challenge than reviewing my fics. #sniffle# They haven't gotten past the first few chapters, either. I have a few people listed as having taken it up, but I need to check and make sure I have all of them listed. Good grief.

Oh! And anybody who can tell me who the guests are gets a free cookie! XD They're from an old anime dealing with mobile suits.


	5. Fifth Set

_by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer_

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Harry Potter... #laughs maniacally#

_**Read**_ Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

Bunnies: - What Binaries was originally going to start off like. I changed it, obviously, but what I had written was still interesting. Unfortunately, I can't think of where it could be used.

- Once again, AMV Hell has gotten to me. I think this one is from 4 as well. 'Centerfold' by the J. Geils Band and just a tad bit of humor collided with my obsession to create this snippet. Sorry, but I had to stop it there lest it just kept going and going and going and that's not the point of Scraps. #sweatdrop# Who knows who Orochimaru is? #sly look# Who knows what said snake ninja can do with his tongue? XD

- Yes, some of these are the result of me being who I am and only ever thinking TR/HP all. the. frickin'. time. That, and listening to too many different songs. I'm amazed no one else has done any songfics or music videos with T.A.T.U. and this couple.

- Beware my angsty, deathfic snippet. It would start out so frickin' wonderful before it turned to tragedy -- tear-jerking tragedy, no less. Hopefully what we're writing doesn't come to this. Revenge fics against Tom really aren't my thing. Maybe that's why I don't like canon too much?

- Why does Myrtle look like Harry's twin?

- If you haven't read "Nusquam Permaneo" by BlackenedNightshade, you should. Just a little mention in there inspired this.

**#Start#**

The searing pain was fading slightly; Voldemort was still present after all, pacing in front of Harry and Wormtail and his eyes kept sweeping over the graveyard. Any time his eyes rested on Harry his thin lips would twist into a parody of a smile.

"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly, cat-eyes fixed on Harry. "A Muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…"

Voldemort laughed, sounding not quite as high as before; still he paced, watching for signs of movement among the gravestones even as his familiar, Nagini, circled around Tom Riddle Sr.'s gravestone where Harry was bound. She kept giggling as she passed in front of him; at least that's what he thought she was doing.

Snake laughter is so strange and difficult to distinguish between just hissing for the heck of it, Harry had learned the first week of summer after his second year after accidentally shocking an unassuming garden snake by asking her why she had been coughing so much and if she should go to a doctor. Angie had sat there shocked before bursting out into giggles. When she finally did calm down enough to explain, Petunia had come out to check on his progress and he had had to help Angie hide. That was one of the few times he hadn't gotten caught. They had been extremely careful though it was fairly easy enough with Petunia telling him to work in the garden nearly every day.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was… He didn't like magic, my father…

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage… but I vowed to find him… I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name… _Tom Riddle_…"

His piercing red eyes still flashed over the mossy slabs of stone, even as he paced.

"Listen to me, reliving family history…" he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental… But look, Harry! My _true_ family returns…"

Suddenly the sound of swishing cloaks filled the air, signaling their arrival. There they were, filling the graveyard, between the graves, behind the yew tree, and in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. Hooded and masked they moved forward… as if any movement might spell their deaths, gazing as if the Angel of Death were standing before them and in a way, maybe they were correct in that assumption.

_#Next#_

_My blood runs cold_

Eyes widening impossibly wide, he couldn't help but stare. Oh, Slytherin, he was going to _kill _Lucius for leaving such a thing in his private library. Was this some sort of jab at him? It couldn't have been anyone else but Lucius and it _must _be intentional since Lucius wasn't so careless as to bring a dirty magazine into his master's home, much less _leave _it in said master's personal library. Heads would be shaved and then rolled for this, but first he had to see why the Malfoy would even have the thing in the first place.

_My memory has just been sold_

Naked teens of both genders decorated the magazine, posed in different positions with different costumes. Angels, devils, genies, maids - all passed by without much thought, but then he found it. The picture that was most definitely the _one_. How covenient that it was the so-called 'Chosen One' that starred for it.

_My angel is the centerfold_

Soft-looking, furry ears perched on his head, glasses missing, eyes glowing that _'Avada Kedavra' _green specific to only two people and one of those he had killed himself, just as soft and furry tail curlycued, but the clothes - oh, the _clothes_. A black leather bodice laced up on the sides with red velvet and the tiniest pair of black shorts that might as well have been underwear combined with thigh-high black boots made up the boy's costume. He nearly suffered a nosebleed right then and there.

_Angel is the centerfold_

Eye twitching, he found he couldn't move his gaze from the picture. It was perverted, but he just could _not _stop looking. There was a highly likely chance that he would be unable to face the boy in battle ever again without thinking of this. He was almost positive that the very next time he laid eyes on Harry he would immediately imagine what he would look like at that moment in some of the costumes he had seen in that magazine.

_My blood runs cold_

Curse you, Lucius Malfoy!

The images kept coming even as he stared down his nemesis. His eye was twitching again, he knew, but trying to shake the image of the boy before him in negligee was more important. The boy was just staring up at him with an odd look on his face, as if he were trying to figure out what to make of the Dark Lord's strange actions. Harry was knocked down, had no wand, and there was no likely chance of anyone being able to track him down to save him. What was his archnemesis thinking about?

Little did he know that it was the last thing he wanted to know.

_My memory has just been sold_

'Would he look better in green or red?' Shaking his head, he hissed in annoyance, focusing on the boy again. The boy who was just sitting there, staring up at him. He could have run, could have disarmed him, could have snuck over to his wand, could have done anything but just _sit _there. This was probably why Voldemort would win. Yes, he _would _win. He would defeat the boy and rule the Wizarding World!

But what did 'defeat' mean? He just killed all the others and that was a definite defeat, but there were other ways, weren't there?

_My angel is the centerfold_

Feeling as if time were moving in slow-motion, Harry watched as the Dark Lord reached down and scooped him up. What was the guy thinking? Harry tried to reason out why Voldemort was now holding him in his arms, but wasn't coming up with anything that made even a lick of sense. Slowly, he saw the Dark Lord's face get closer and closer to his. Was he going to _kiss _Harry?

Indeed, he did. Voldemort kissed him right on the lips, just a press of flesh, but that was enough to make Harry feel light-headed. Not a moment later, Harry felt the world twirl and he was forced through a small tube. When he could breathe again, he peeked out from under his lashes at the lavish room he found himself in. He was still in Voldemort's arms. For some reason his face was heating up, but he couldn't figure out why.

Then he noticed something, a magazine to be precise, on the bed open to a specific page. On that page was a very familiar picture, though he personally had not seen it often, he knew exactly what it was. That picture was the reason he refused to participate in any more Truth-or-Dare games with Draco Malfoy.

Feeling a warm breath on his ear, Harry started, barely having noticed that his eyes had widened significantly at the recognition of the magazine. Then there was something warm and wet on his ear and he couldn't stop the squeak from escaping him. How embarrassing! Teeth nibbling on the shell of his ear just made it worse as Harry found his eyes drifting half-closed at the sensation. It felt... strangely good.

Little gasps escaped him without his knowledge and those little gasps were joined by soft moans and mewls, which encouraged Voldemort to continue with his spontaneous decision. Harry would fall to him, but that didn't mean death if the boy accepted his proposal.

_Angel is the centerfold_

And the boy did, in the end, but achieving his surrender had taken extensive persuasion. Luckily, he was incredibly talented with his tongue.

_#Next#_

_If they hurt you,_

_They hurt me too,_

Hissing in annoyance, Voldemort narrowed his eyes, feeling emotions crash over him that were distinctly not his. He knew it would be worse if he didn't let what was about to consume him take its course, so he closed his eyes and was glad he wasn't in a meeting. When he opened his eyes, the Dark Lord knew where he was and hated it. He was forced to watch through Harry Potter's eyes as the boy's life carried on around him.

The common feelings of anger and deeply hidden hatred simmered

_So we'll rise up,_

_Won't stop,_

With all the lies and half-truths, Harry was beginning to think the 'Light' side was no different than the Dark. They never told him anything unless it was absolutely the last resort or if he found out on his own. So many things were hidden from him in such a way that he was unable to know critical information until it was too late. Yet, they still expected him to save them charge in and work miracles, saving the day just like superman.

Where was his kryptonite? Maybe he could escape this trap of cheap tricks and sad clowns.

The only place he could get any peace was in the Chamber of Secrets, which was where he was now. Luckily, Hogwarts was even more resourceful than he could have possibly hoped and wishing just so allowed him to forge a path to the Chamber through the Room of Requirement. Curled up on the stone floor, he breathed deep and just listened to the hypnotic sound of dripping water.

When he had first returned, it hadn't been so welcoming, but banishing the basilisk corpse and freshening the air had done worlds of good. Now it was his sanctuary.

_And it's all about,_

_It's all about,_

Watching through the boy's eyes wasn't anywhere near as bad as it sometimes was. For now, it appeared as if the child was taking refuge within the place that had been his own when he had attended Hogwarts. What an interesting development.

He followed the flow of the boy's thoughts, finding his situation getting better and better by the moment. Maybe it was time for him to reveal his presence and possibly change history? The only way to find out was to try and no one could ever call Lord Voldemort a coward, not then and most definitely not now.

_It's all about us, all about us_

_It's all about, all about us_

It had been a shock, being approached in such a way by his nemesis, but as they talked - actually _talked _- Harry's opinions and ideas were realized and they paralleled Voldemort's perfectly. Not only had the 'Light' been keeping him in the dark, they had been drowning him in lies! He had been slowly dying for a false cause.

But not anymore. No, things were changing. They were being perfected. The twin stars born under opposing signs lined up and began forging a new future for the betterment of magical life everywhere.

_All about us_

It had been a year since they had achieved their dreams. Now they lived in close quarters, ruling with a warm heart and an iron fist. The Wizarding world was flourishing, while the Muggle world remained contentedly oblivious - just as it should be.

The press was just as rabid about the two as it had been for a long time, conjecturing about Harry's lack of a love life and Voldemort's indifference to all the offers being made to both leaders. While Harry gently let down every offer, his counterpart out right refused to even consider any of the ridiculous proposals and while the press could wonder and spread rumors, there was never any evidence to support any of the increasingly foolish ideas.

Except one, the one that Harry and Voldemort were secret lovers. Considering how they only had close relations with each other, there was plenty of fodder for that rumor. No one knew if it was true, not really.

_And that's the thing that they can't touch_

_'Cause you know (ah-ah)_

Curled up against his lover's body, Harry breathed deeply, content. Long fingers danced softly up his body, drawing shivers from his tired body. It had been a long day at the end of a hard week nearing the end of the year and he had just wanted a little r&r. Of course, with a partner like his, it could never be simple.

"And to think that all of this started off as a relaxing massage," Harry groused, nuzzling his lover's neck softly. A quiet 'harumph' was the only response. Laving the same area with his tongue didn't receive any other response besides a repeat of the 'harumph'. Yet, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Have you heard the latest rumor?" Another 'harumph'. "Now they're saying you had Snape brew a special love potion that would make me refuse all offers but your own and because of the repression I'm an animal in bed," the green-eyed man purred, wiggling his eyebrows for effect when he noticed his lover's gaze resting on him.

"Why bother with a potion? All I need was a little time and opportunity to put my tongue to good use," his bedmate leered, giving an eyebrow-wiggling of his own. Blushing, Harry smirked, remembering.

"You don't say stuff like that much, Tom, but when you do..." Lord Voldemort took a deep breath, noticing as his lover's mood changed.

"And you know they'll never stop talking about us, Harry. They never have and they never will, even when we're old, gray, and quite possibly retired," the red-eyed man murmured, trailing a pale finger down Harry's cheek lovingly. With a sardonic smirk, the younger leaned into the caress.

"Because it's all about us."

_#Next#_

Eyes blank, Harry could feel the last few drops of his blood lingering in his veins burn. Alone, they could not keep him alive. The vampire's fangs didn't hurt as they ripped from his flesh. He could hardly feel anything now.

"I just hope... Remus can forgive me... for being so selfish," the dying wizard whispered, tears gathering like dew on his eyelashes as he blinked slowly, his vision nearly completely grayed out. Breathing was futile and burned like fury, but he couldn't consciously stop. His limbs were dead weight, numb beyond help, and all of his nerve-endings had finally ceased sending needles of pain through his system. All feeling in his body was gone, just the last lingering thoughts in his dying mind. His love for 'Velius' had killed him and he had hurt the only person who had seen him for who he was for it. He was almost glad to be dying because disappointing Remus like this would have killed him anyway.

_#Next#_

"WHAT?!" The scream echoed off the tile, making it several times louder than it would have been.

"Oh, Harry, hadn't you made the connection? I mean, you two look so much alike, so I did some digging and it's true. Myrtle was your grandfather Charlus' sister," Hermione calmly explained, watching Harry carefully. It wasn't enough, however, because watching alone didn't stop him from fainting.

#Next#

Rustle. Rustle rustle. Thump. Rustle rustle rustle. Squeak. Rustle rustle.

Click! Light flooded the room instantly.

"What are you guys doing here at three o'clock in the morning?" Harry grumbled, blearily glaring at the assembled wizards in his kitchen. Blinking back mostly innocently, the Death Eaters stood still, waiting.

"Master commanded me to deliver this," Avery finally answered, stepping forward and offering up a letter to the Boy-Who-Lived. Eying the offending object, the messy-haired teen snatched it, then began inspecting it. 'Definitely from Voldemort', he concluded before ripping open the envelope. Each word made his eyebrows raise a bit higher. He finished and looked up at the wizards still standing in his kitchen.

"So, he told you," he pointed at Avery, " to deliver this," he indicated the letter by raising it slightly, " but that doesn't explain why the rest of you are here." Looking out over the assembled, Harry gave them The Look, which meant they had better start explaining _or else..._

"Well, Avery was afraid that you would, well, do what you normally do when faced with a Dark Wizard, so he brought me along as back-up," Nott explained, stepping up beside said Death Eater.

"Okay," Harry said slowly, then looked to the others for their excuses. "And you?" Nodding at Crabbe, he indicated that the lumbering man should speak.

"Hungry, so followed food-buddy," Crabbe nudged Goyle, who stood beside him with a piece of jerky hanging out of his mouth. The elder Goyle nodded slowly, then twitched and tried to figure out what was sticking out of his mouth. He was rather unsuccessful. With a sigh, Harry turned to Lucius Malfoy and raised an eyebrow.

"And you? Why do I have the illustrious Lucius Malfoy standing in my kitchen at dark thirty?" The blond appeared to be as unruffled as usual, even when questioned about trespassing. "Wait, let me guess. You were back-up for Nott and Avery because you _always _go on raids." Scowling, Malfoy Sr. shifted his weight to the other foot.

"Alright. I'll let you in on a little secret," Harry spoke, addressing the entire group. "Lord McVoldie-shorts is on a mission elsewhere and I've been stuck baby-sitting all of you. Now, go sit down at the table. You're all hungry, I suppose." Watching grown men shuffle to his rather small table, most of them having to conjure their own seats, he set to work getting them snacks and juice. It would be a long month.

**End of Set Five**


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